Mechanical(revised)
by lillith.abendroth
Summary: While out dispatching cyborgs on a cold winters night, Raiden finds himself wounded and alone. A light shines in the distance, the light of hope. He comes face to face with a beautiful woman willing to tend to his wounds, and his heart. But who will tend to hers? Warning: Contains sexual situations and violence. Extended and rewritten


**A/N: This is a revision of a story I wrote a while ago. I got to reading through it and noticed that, while it does have a nice plot, the writing was...struggling, to say the least. While it is the same basic plot, a lot of things have changed, so id you read the original, you should enjoy this version a lot more! I hope you enjoy it, and please leave me a review to lemme know what you think!**

The crunching of his footsteps over the snow broke the stillness. A biting cold hung in the air, and crystals of snow fell in large flakes, obscuring his already clouded vision. His frustration mounting, he stepped out of the shadows, under the flickering glow of an aging streetlight, its yellowed light flickering dimly in the pitch black night. He let out a sigh, lowering his weapon, his eyes scanning the horizon. Coming up with nothing, he sighed, straightening up. A splash of blood marred the whiteness of his silvery-blonde hair, and dripped slowly down onto his cheek, steaming in the blistering chill.

"come on, you son of a bitch..." He muttered under his breath, his lip raised in a snarl. He had followed the cyborgs footsteps to this very streetlight, when as suddenly as they appeared, they were gone. Turning slowly on the spot, Raiden scanned the buildings around him, looking in every corner and every shadow for any sign of the danger he knew would be lurking.

He heard it then. A low grumble, terrifying in its contrast to the absolute silence of a winters night. He spun on his heel, turning to face the horror coming up on him, but he was a second too late. An impossible weight slammed into him with a sickening force, colliding with his shoulder, knocking the wind from his body. He flew backwards, smacking his head against the metal of the street lamp, sending a shock wave down up his spine, and slamming into his brain like a bullet. His vision flashed like a strobe, and it took all of his willpower to keep himself awake.

A scream escaped him, and it was upon him, biting, crushing, ripping at flesh, sparks and pieces of steel flew through the air. Blood splashed onto the snow, a crimson painting against the angelic whiteness of the snow. Shaking, but solid in his determination, Raiden pulled his knees up, and pushed out with the remainder of his strength, sending the cyborg flying off of him and into a snowdrift with a wave of white powder flying into the air. He cursed himself inside, internally scolding his stupidity; why exactly had he insisted on turning on his pain sensors?

Seeing an opening, he threw himself forward, trying to pull his legs up and under him in an effort to get to his feet, where he would be less vulnerable. A crushing pain hit him, and reality slammed into his mind with a sickening realness that shook his very core. He was bleeding, and bleeding badly.

The creature roared, shaking the ground as it clambered to its legs, slipping in the slush of melted snow beneath its feet.

Thinking quickly, Raiden's mind worked to find a way out of this; a way he could survive. Before he could collect every thought, the beast pounced. Rolling onto his back, Raiden swung his sword above his head, arching it upwards as he turned. He chuckled slightly at the sound of metal upon metal, his blade finding its mark. The blade of his sword severed the terrors head from its shoulders in a glorious fountain spray of blood.

He was practically beaming, living in the moment of the kill, the adrenaline, the rush. He laughed, a deep, hollow sound, as he released his weapon. It landed, blade down, in the snow beside him, still hot and dripping blood. His laugh lengthened, deepening to a painful groan as he realized just how much trouble he was in. The painkiller known as adrenaline was slowly wearing off, and his agony was setting in like fire in his arteries. His vision blurred behind his searching eyes, and he forced himself to sit up in an effort to stay awake. He glanced downward, his breathing laboured, chest heaving. A gash the size of his fist had been torn through his armor, exposing his collarbone, which had obviously been shattered. Gritting his teeth, he raised a shaking hand to the wound, jamming his fingers into the torn flesh in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The wind was picking up now, and he suddenly felt vulnerable, almost naked in the night.

He looked down at his wounded body, cursing under his breath. As he glanced around, something warm and wet dripped down his brow and into his eye, stinging his vision.

"Fuck..." He muttered, bringing his free hand up to run across his forehead. Feeling a stab of pain, he winced, and when he pulled his hand back, it came away soaked in blood.

What perfect timing. He was alone, had no help, and was wounded; there were almost certainly more of those animals around. He needed to find a place to heal. Glancing around, he noticed all of the lights in all of the houses were black as night,except one. Squinting in the yellow glow of the light shining above his head, he noticed a figure moving in the light.

He watched the darkness, seeing the occasional swaying of a moving figure. His vision, fuzzy and flashing, frustrated him to his very depths. If something was coming toward him with malicious intent, he felt quite sure he needed to know. Swiping the back of his hand across his forehead, he groaned at the pain, but kept his eyes trained into the distance.

Finally, the figure stepped into the dome of light, and was revealed to him. A girl, small and frail looking with her arms crossed tightly across her chest to protect from the cold. He heard her voice but at first found himself unable to make out the words. He shook his head, attempting to clear his muddied vision, but succeeded in nothing but making himself more lightheaded.

"Hello? Do you need help?"

Her voice was small, as fragile as glass in a chaotic world. He opened his mouth to answer her, but before he could utter a single word, Raiden felt himself slump to the side. When his face hit the snow, all he knew was blackness.

~0~0~0~

Raiden heard a voice, muffled, distant and just barely audible. His chest heaved violently, and he sucked in a shaky breath. The darkness faded slowly, bright lights appeared in the lifting fog. His feeling of falling in an endless loop ended suddenly, and his eyes popped open with a jolt.

Something didn't feel right. His chest ached like a stab to the heart with every breath. His vision flashed and his head pounded sickeningly. He felt as if he had been slammed by a truck, but despite how hard he tried, he couldn't remember why. Without thinking, he lifted his head to survey his surroundings, and was greeted with a stab of pain to the back of his skull. Groaning through clenched teeth, he brought his hands up to cradle his head.

"Well, you're alive..."

A voice to his right brought him to reality, and he squinted through the pain. He was in a large, relatively clean room. The floor was covered in a thick, beige carpeting, the walls painted a clean off-white shade. Two doors served as exits, both open, one showing a darkened, unlit hallway, and one leading into what appeared to be a bathroom. Though the furniture in the room was scarce, they were large wooden pieces that took up large amounts of space and gave the room an appearance of warmth. A vanity, covered in an assortment of perfumes and what he could only assume were various pieces of makeup, sat close to the door that lead to the bathroom. Across from it, near the hallway, a large wardrobe, it's wood dark and shimmering in the light from a single floor lamp sitting next to it. Finally, beside the bed on he hitch he lay, an ornately carved desk, the same dark wood as the rest of the furniture, holding a computer and various odds and ends of a haphazardly strewn first aid kit. Beside the desk, in a simple red computer chair, a young female sat watching him.

Her striking blue eyes were the first thing he noticed, sitting behind a pair of wire framed glasses, watching him with a look of cool observance, as if watching an animal in a cage. A cascade of black, loose curls flooded down her shoulders like a midnight waterfall. Her lips were full and pillowy, turned up just slightly at the corners in a smirk that he could only read as amusement.

Still watching her, he brought his hands beneath him, pushing away steadily in an attempt to sit up. A stab of pain slammed into his brain like a wrecking ball, and it was all he could do not to scream.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, her looked over to see she had risen from her chair, and was standing beside him now.

"I don't suggest doing that"

"Why?"

Slowly, she lowered herself down to the bed beside him, her legs crossed primly over the edge of the bed.

"You had a pretty significant blow to the head. You have a concussion."

Ignoring her warning, he forced himself up, fighting against the pain with a snarl. His hands came up, cradling his pounding skull, and what he felt there was a slight shock. Bandages, thick and tight across his forehead, damp with what he could only assume was blood.

"How long was I out?"

She shrugged, dropping her hand from his shoulder. "I'm not sure. A couple of hours?"

Glancing around the room, he sighed heavily to himself. A wave of confusion hit him, and he turned back to her with a furrowed brow.

"How did I get in here?"

She turned away quickly, leaning forward to snatch a small, thin flashlight off the edge of her desk. With a flick of her finger, she flipped it on, and then turned back to him, leaning towards him with a look of stoic concentration. Repositioning herself, she motioned him forward with two fingers.

"Look at me"

He complied, raising his eyes to her face. He found himself studying the lines and curves of her mouth, smirking to himself. Bringing her hand up, she aimed the light directly into his eyes. Letting out a yelp, he bucked away from her, his hands going up to shield his face. She gave a sigh of discontent, and tossed the flashlight back onto her desk.

"Yea, you definitely can't get up"

Balls of dancing light still flashing in his vision, Raiden shook his head.

"I can't stay in bed"

She let out a bark of laughter, and he cocked an eyebrow in her direction. She seemed so sure of herself, cocky. Raiden was intrigued.

"I doubt you could leave if you tried."

He sat back against the headboard, resting his throbbing head against the wall. While he knew she was right, he refused to be a lap dog. He looked at her expression, her look of cold determination and daring smirk bored into him like a drill. She was forceful and unforgiving- something that caught his attention and urged him to see how far he could push her.

"Fair enough"

She relaxed a bit, pulling in a deep breath. Her long, lithe fingers came up, pulling off her glasses. Folding them carefully, she leaned forward and placed them gently on the corner of the desk. Returning her gaze to Raiden, her lips turned up in an impish grin, and Raiden couldn't help but smile himself. Something about her drew him in and kept him hooked, and he loved it.

"So, what's your name?"

He thought to himself for a moment, then cleared his throat, "Raiden"

She nodded, still smiling, "Anna"

He watched her for a moment, then turned away, looking around the room again. He noticed a pile of black fabric near the foot of the bed, and for the first time since waking, glanced down at himself. He was naked from the waist up, a white square of gauze taped to the left side of his chest, directly above his heart. He looked over to her again.

"Seems like you've got it all covered"

She shrugged, her expression blank, almost bored, "I thought so"

With a sly smile, he pulled up the sheet draped across his waist. He let out a chuckle, shaking his head. She sure had covered all her bases. Raiden stared down at his naked form for a moment, before dropping the cloth once more.

"So...I didn't know I had wounds on my legs."

"You don't"

He grinned at her, his lips curving up in a look of pure sadism. He knew deep down that he should be embarrassed, ashamed of his nudity in front of a perfect stranger, but he just found it that much more interesting.

"Well what can I say. You're thorough"

She shook her head, her eyes never straying from his.

"I was curious"

"Curious?"

She nodded, her expression matter-of-fact and unashamed, "I've never seen a cyborg before. Let alone a naked one. I wanted to see if you were anatomically correct"

He let out a chuckle. She seemed more interesting around every corner.

"Did I live up to your expectations?"

She nodded, maintaining eye contact. His smile morphed into an amused smirk.

Raiden snickered softly to himself, shaking his head. Anna looked less than pleased with herself. Raiden noticed what he believed to be her first genuine smile. He couldn't help but notice the spark in the corner of her sapphire eyes. Looking away from him, as if ashamed of her emotions, she slowly stood from the bed. Her fingers came up to push a strand of hair behind her ear, and Raiden noticed a scarlet flush in her pale cheeks.

He smiled to himself. She feigned a hard exterior, and Raiden saw through it easily. He couldn't help but wonder what she was hiding. She shuffled towards the door, one arm wrapped around her back.

"You need to get your rest"

Without another word, she pulled the door shut tightly behind her. 


End file.
